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akaridream · 9 months

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all the right buttons: part 2 GOKU (college AU goku x reader)

alright goku fuckers, come get y'all juice

and don't worry geta lovers, you'll get yours soon too

You stared at the coin in your hand, anxiously rubbing your thumb over it. The only way to discover your true feelings was to flip it. Heads for Goku, tails for Vegeta.

The coin sailed through the air. You captured it between your palms and flipped it onto the back of one hand. Eyes opening, you lifted your hand. Heads.

YOU: ummm i guess i felt like i had a slightly better connection with goku?

You climbed into bed and laid in the darkness, wiggling your toes impatiently between your bed sheets. Your stomach floated nervously within you, waiting for her response. What if your guess was wrong? Would you be disappointed if it was Vegeta? No, certainly not disappointed. But there would be at least a tinge of FOMO in your heart at the thought of missing out on Goku. He seemed so sweet and easy to get along with. But perhaps he was just a nice guy with everyone and you were nothing special to him. Whatever the case, you jolted when your phone finally buzzed with Bulma’s reply.

BULMA: as soon as you left, goku said you were cool and that you should come over again soon :) and he said you were really pretty An automatic smile spread across your face and you kicked your feet up with a delighted squeal.

YOU: omg i’ll come over right now if he wants haha

BULMA: easy tiger :) i gave him your number and told him to hit you up, so hopefully you’ll be hearing from him v soon

YOU: did you tell him anything I said about him? Did you put in a good word for me?

BULMA: I told him you’re super sweet and lots of fun to be around, but he was already kinda smitten and didnt need much encouragement. it was actually really cute

Your cheeks were starting to hurt from all the smiling. Then your phone buzzed again.

Unknown Number: hey, it’s goku! i got your number from bulma, i hope thats alright

You stomped your feet on the bed, pleasantly surprised that he was texting you already. This guy doesn’t play games!

YOU: omg hey! ofc thats okay! I know I can trust bulma not to give my number to creeps. I had a great time playing with you today!

GOKU: yeah me too! I’ll have to dig out some other games we can play together sometime

YOU: I’m absolutely down for another game sesh! Wish I still had all my old games, I’d bring some

GOKU: just bring yourself and I’m sure we can find something to play! theres actually an old tenkaichi tournament movie, we could try and find it somewhere and watch it

YOU: ive heard its actually a horrible movie! but that isn’t gonna stop me, i love making fun of bad movies

GOKU: haha cool! Vegeta and I always go to the gym friday afternoons, but I’m free after 5 or so. We could order some food and just hang out here

Wow, he really doesn’t beat around the bush! Straight to asking me to hang out already?

YOU: that sounds great! And will your roommates be joining us?

GOKU: they’ll probably be around. But i was kind of hoping it might just be you and me

YOU: i think i’d like that :) so it’s a date then?

GOKU: yeah, if that’s okay with you

YOU: definitely okay with me! I can bring some drinks if you want

GOKU: yeah sure! You like chinese takeout? Theres an awesome place just off campus I order from all the time, they give you sooo much food

YOU: yeah, that sounds great to me. I’m sure you need big portions, you’re a growing boy after all!

For the rest of the week, you texted Goku without the conversation coming to a natural end. As midday turned into Friday afternoon, an anxious, fluttery feeling flooded your stomach. What should you wear? What should you do with your hair? What about makeup? In the end, you opted for a pair of high-waisted jean shorts, a cute camisole with lace trim and an oversized cozy cardigan that kept falling off your shoulder. The peek of skin would be enticing, if he was interested in hooking up of course. And you certainly weren’t against that idea. Since the day you met him, you had been thinking about climbing all over him, especially right into his lap…

You put your hair up into a clip and dotted your cheeks and lips with a soft glow. After a touch of mascara, you admired yourself in your full length mirror. Scrubbed, shaved and smelling lightly of perfume, you felt confident in your natural beauty. Your heart danced in your chest when your phone buzzed with a text from Goku, saying to come over whenever you were ready. You grabbed the case of chilled vodka soda from your dorm fridge and headed across campus.

By the time you arrived at Bulma and Goku’s front door, your cheeks were aching from smiling so much. Your heart still twirling like a ballerina, you knocked and awaited your date’s appearance.

The door swung open, revealing Goku in a tight black tee and another pair of short shorts in bright orange. He grinned and adjusted his glasses on his nose.

“Hey! Good to see ya!�� he said, giving you a brief but warm hug as you stepped over the threshold. Your arms snaked around his thin waist, pleasantly aware of having his hard body flush against yours.

“Good to see you again too, Goku! How was your workout?” you asked as he led you into the kitchen.

“Great! Vegeta hit a PR on bench today, so that was cool!”

You tilted your head as he took the case of vodka soda from you and put it in the fridge. “What’s a PR?”

He blinked. “Oh! Personal record. Sorry, I forgot you aren’t a gym rat like me,” he said, shyly scratching the back of his neck. “Oh, Bulma left this for us by the way.” Goku tapped a knuckle on a bottle of white wine with a fancy label.

“Oh my gosh, that looks expensive!” you said as you examined it. “But what a sweetheart she is! I’ll have to tell her thank you!”

Goku led you to the living room where the game console and old TV had been shoved to the corner and Bulma’s fancy flat screen once again dominated the space. A new coffee table sat in front of the couch as well.

“She’s been busting my balls all week about you,” he said with a shy chuckle as he plopped onto the couch.

“Oh yeah?” you asked in a teasing voice. “What about me?” A warm blush started to overtake Goku’s cheeks. He smiled and shrugged. “Just that she’s happy to see me take interest in someone, I guess. Apparently she thinks its about time!”

You sat on the couch and propped your arm over the back, turned to face Goku. “Has it been a while since you dated someone then?”

He nodded. “Yeah, since high school. I had a long term thing with this one girl but it didn’t end so great. She was a bit of a hot-head. But since her… I haven’t even been on a date. Just been trying to sort my own stuff out, you know?”

“Yeah, I get it. I’m not the most experienced with relationships either. Shit’s complicated,” you laughed.

Goku smiled. “Yeah, you’re telling me!” His phone buzzed. “Alright, dinner’s here! Be right back!” His eyes grew wide with excitement and he raced out the door before you could even reply. He came back just as quick and unloaded a surprising amount of food onto the coffee table.

“Are you sure you ordered enough?” you asked sarcastically.

Goku furrowed his brows and looked over the selection of takeout containers. “Well, I thought five entrees might be enough, but I’ll be happy to order more if you want!”

You laughed and opened a pair of chopsticks. “I was kidding! This looks like enough to feed my entire family back home!”

His frown quickly inverted and he grinned. “Oh, okay, good! Should we break out what you brought to drink or try Bulma’s fancy wine?”

“Let’s have the wine with the movie, I think,” you suggested, padding over to the fridge and grabbed a drink for each of you.

Per usual with Goku, conversation was steady and comfy. You chatted and laughed as you sat on the floor across the coffee table from each other, both of your cell phones sitting untouched. “Is this table new?” you asked.

Goku nodded as he scarfed down some lo mein. “Yeah, Bulma bought a new one because Vegeta and I kind of broke the last one.” You sputtered a laugh. “How on earth did you manage to break a coffee table?”

“Well, we were just kind of goofing around and Vegeta slipped and… Fell right through it! It was all glass, he complained about it being invisible all the time anyway. Bulma is convinced he did it on purpose because he hated it!”

You covered your mouth full of food and laughed heartily. “That is hilarious! But what the hell do you mean you were just goofing around?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know, just… Goofin’ off like guys do?”

“Sounds just like my brothers,” you said, shaking your head.

You finished your meal, with Goku eating the lion’s share of the food. You didn’t mind, he clearly required more calories than you did. As he was clearing away all the takeout containers, you watched him in the kitchen from behind. His wide shoulders and slutty waist made your head feel light. Or was it the vodka soda?

“You ready to bust out this bottle of wine?” he called over his shoulder.

Your eyes grazed over his silhouette, admiring his stellar ass in those tiny shorts. “Sure, let’s do it!”

Goku rummaged around in the kitchen drawers. “Crap, I have no idea where to find a corkscrew.”

You rose from your place on the living room floor to help him look. “Well I sure hope you at least know how to use one, because I sure don’t! I only ever buy the cheap wine with the screw top.”

Goku bumped into you, then placed a hand on your hip to navigate around you in the kitchen. You blushed at the contact.

“Bulma’s not here, is she?” you asked. “We could ask her if she knows where it is.”

“No, she said she was heading back to West City to see her parents this weekend. And Vegeta said he’d be out late tonight.”

Way at the back of a stuck drawer, you felt a spiral shape. You turned and twisted it until the drawer could move again, finally able to extract the object. You held it up with a bright smile.

“Ta-da!” you said.

“Hey, nice!” Goku said, giving you a high-five. He took the corkscrew and carefully opened the fancy bottle to pour you both a glass.

You returned to the living room with two stemless crystal glasses as Goku made a quick trip to his bedroom.

“The library had the Tenkaichi movie on DVD!” he called down the hall as he returned. You sat on the edge in the middle of the couch, watching him lean over to load the DVD into the player. Those damn shorts are giving me heart palpitations, you thought. His body is godly.

Cheeks growing warmer by the second, you slid your cardigan off one shoulder for some much-needed cool air. You caught Goku’s eyes taking you in as he turned around, peeking at him over the rim of your wine glass.

“How’s it taste?” Goku asked, his voice quiet and soft.

You raised the crystal and gave it a swirl before taking a sip. You closed your eyes and breathed through your nose as you swallowed the aromatic liquid, a trail of pleasant warmth growing in your chest.

“Expensive,” you said. You both laughed.

Goku grabbed the remote and sat on your right, his left arm automatically fanning over the back of the couch cushion. Once he started the movie, he exchanged the remote for his glass of wine, taking a sizable swig.

“Hm, it’s sweeter than I expected. The last time I tried wine, I felt like it sucked all the moisture out of my mouth,” Goku said.

You took another sip. “Yeah, this one is nice and mild. I could drink the whole bottle of this,” you said, your head starting to feel pleasantly heavy.

Eager to move closer to your date, you sat back into the couch and tucked your feet up, leaning onto your hip. There was still space between the two of you, but it was Goku’s turn to come to you next.

The movie began with a vibrant action scene, filling the dark room with bright flashes of light. After draining half of his glass, Goku leaned forward and placed it on the coffee table. When he leaned back, he closed the small gap between you, nestling your shoulder under his wing on the back of the couch. A rush filled you immediately, and you happily leaned your weight into his firm torso. At that, Goku moved his arm from the couch cushion to rest across your shoulders. Another pleasing rush of adrenaline raced through you. You licked your lips and sipped on the wine.

“This okay?” he said, barely above a whisper.

You gave a smile and warm mm-hmm before placing your glass on the table and snuggling up to him even more. His thighs spread slightly, making his leg press into yours. Like chess opponents trading moves, you thought about what your next move should be. Your mind flashed back to the last time you saw Goku. That blue tank top had shown off his pecs just right…

Biting your lip, you leaned your head over to rest your burning cheek against his chest. With your ear pressed to him, you could hear his heart beating wildly. The excitement of snuggling up with such a handsome guy was not lost on you, as your heart was purring like an engine. His pecs really did make for a great pillow.

Goku began brushing his fingers softly over your exposed shoulder. You sighed happily and relaxed into his touch.

“You’re comfy,” you said as you worked your arms around his waist. He leaned back, pulling you into him even more.

“Thanks,” he chuckled. “You’re cute.”

“Thanks,” you breathed, heart leaping at the compliment.

As the movie progressed, you paid less attention to it and more to every fiber of Goku’s body. After polishing off your glasses of wine and feeling delightfully buzzed, you curled up even further into him, feet tucked up and thighs falling over onto his. Your head also migrated from resting atop his muscular chest to nuzzling into his neck. All it would take would be a subtle movement to start kissing his neck…

It took a while to muster the courage to make such a bold move. It was only your first date after all. Perhaps this was moving too fast. But he really did seem into you. And you were undoubtedly into him. While gently petting your hand over his chest, you parted your lips, and allowed a steamy breath to escape and tickle his neck. His heart began to drum hard enough for you to feel. You let your lips touch his skin with a feather-light press. Goku’s dark eyes slid closed with your next kiss, the fullness of your gorgeous mouth lighting up each nerve along his neck. You gave a gentle suck to it, causing a sweet sigh to fall from his lips. You trailed your hand up to hold the opposite side of his neck as your tongue began to tease him with tiny kitten licks, then bold circles.

Goku’s hand went from your shoulder to the back of your head, guiding you. You felt his pulse pound as you kissed him. His other hand found your wrist and squeezed.

“Hah,” he breathed. “Need to kiss you.”

You pulled back enough to look at his handsome face. His cheeks were pleasantly pink and his eyes were dazed and dreamy behind his frames. He took your chin with one hand and brought your mouth up to his, finally letting your hot breaths intermingle before he sweetly caressed your lips with his own. Goku’s tongue softly brushed over your lip, silently pleading for yours. You obliged and his tongue invaded to massage yours. Every movement was slow and sensual, tender yet incredibly erotic.

While shifting yourself to face Goku more fully, your leg brushed past something hard, and you were certain it wasn’t just his meaty thighs. Your core heated and revved like a racecar. Unable to keep them suppressed, sighs and heavy breaths from Goku encouraged you to continue kissing.

“W-wait,” Goku said, pulling away slightly. “You aren’t too drunk for this, are you?”

You pulled back further and looked at him, his black eyes full of concern. Your heart clenched. What a sweetheart!

“No,” you giggled, pulling his glasses off and placing them next to your empty wine glasses. “I may be a bit buzzed, but I’m fully aware of what I’m doing. And I don’t intend to stop.”

With that, you climbed over Goku to straddle his lap. Without the black frames, his eyes shone with gentleness, and lust. Using his shoulders for support, you adjusted yourself atop his lap until you found exactly what you were looking for. His lips fell open with a sharp, breathy groan.

“This okay?” you asked as you returned your mouth to his.

Goku kissed you between heated breaths as he gripped your thighs. “Hahh, yeah. Definitely.”

You shrugged off your cardigan and tossed it aside as you made out. One of your hands worked into Goku’s wild hair as his hands wandered up to your hips. He pulled you towards him, chest to chest, and your tight jean shorts gave you both a taste of delicious friction. That made him shove his tongue messily down your throat, like he was slowly fucking your mouth. You whined, grinding your hips down. He responded with a tight squeeze to your ass.

“I’ve… I’ve never really done this whole hooking up thing before,” he admitted.

You scratched his scalp lightly, making his eyes flutter in pleasure. “We don’t have to go any further.”

“But that’s the problem,” he said, kissing your throat. “I don’t wanna stop. You’re really hot and I don’t know if I can control myself.”

You giggled as his lips trailed down to your collarbone, sweet sensations filling you from head to core. “Then by all means, continue.”

“You gotta tell me if you wanna stop, or if I go too far.” He slid the strap of your cami and kissed your shoulder.

“Okay. And you do, too,” you breathed as his fingers softly traced your arm.

Just the touch of his hands was enough to make your eyes fall closed in bliss, and you wanted his big hands all over you. Under your shirt, on your waist, in your shorts…

“Can’t believe you aren’t bringing girls back every night. You’re so fucking hot,” you said as he sucked on your pulse point.

He smirked and took your cheek in in his palm. “I’m not a fuck boy. I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings.” He gave you the most saccharine kiss yet, making you melt completely in his lap. “Which reminds me…” He pulled back slightly to look you in the eyes. “This… Isn’t just gonna be a one time thing, is it? Because I really do like you, and I want to get to know you.”

You smiled and put your hands on his gorgeous chest. “I like you too, Goku. And I’d love to get to know you better, and make out with you more, too.”

He gave a glowing smile and endearing chuckle. If he were any cuter, you feared your heart may burst. “Yeah, I really like kissing you. Like, a lot.”

And so you did just that. Desperate yet tender, Goku’s tongue reconnected with yours as your hips began to roll against his. Those shorts of his were blessedly thin, and your tight denim put pressure right on your sweet spot.

“Mm, touch me more,” you pleaded.

“Where?” he whispered.

“Anywhere. Everywhere.”

You took Goku’s lower lip between your teeth as his big hands roamed freely. His thumbs brushed the undersides of your breasts, then boldly over the fullness of them just as your hips hitched against his stiff cock print. A moan ripped from your throat.

You gripped the back of the couch on either side of Goku’s head and started working your hips into a rhythm. It was agonizingly slow for him, just enough stimulation to tease and make him want more. Foreheads sealed together, mouths exchanging breaths, you humped his lap as he tenderly squeezed your tits.

“Can you go faster?” he asked, a desperate tremble to his voice. You grinned and did as he asked while bringing your chest close to his face. He pressed your breasts together and kissed the tops of them, slightly pulling down the top of your camisole. You slid the straps off your shoulders and pulled the shirt down to expose your tits to him. Goku’s eyes shone brightly as they drank you in. “Fuck. You’re perfect,” he praised, circling his thumbs over your nipples.

“Use your mouth.”

He obeyed immediately, placing delicate kisses over one while softly pinching the other. You sighed and rewarded him by continuing to hump him. But he teased you, only lightly lapping your nipple with his sweet tongue.

“Mm, harder,” you whined.

Goku proved to be pleasantly obedient, taking your directions well. He sucked and pulled back to let your tit bounce, then sought your eyes for approval. You groaned in pleasure and mussed his hair, forcing his head back to your chest. One of his large hands supported your upper back, the other smearing saliva over your pert nipple. The telltale tingle between your thighs was beginning to grow steadily. Based on the way he was whining and bucking underneath you, Goku was feeling good, too.

“Damnit, please don’t make me ruin these shorts by cumming in them,” he begged.

You slowed your pace and lifted Goku’s chin. “Where do you want to cum then?”

His pupils wide in awe, he failed to form any coherent words. “I… Well, wha…”

“Aw, did I make you dumb already, big boy?” you patronized.

“I was never that smart to begin with.” His expression was dreamy and he stared up at you like you were a goddess.

You giggled and stood up. “Why don’t you let me finish you off?”

You got on your knees between his, your breasts still exposed and holding his attention. Your soft hands rubbed up his sculpted thighs, sneaking under the hem of his shorts. His eyes met yours as you palmed his aching cock. His perfectly kissable lips hung open as you teased him, and his throaty little moans each sent a pulse straight to your pussy.

As you pulled at the waistband of his shorts, you saw two wet spots of precum had soaked through, a sign of a job well done by you. Goku lifted his hips and pulled down the obstruction to reveal his gloriously sized dick. You almost growled at the sight, feral with desire.

“Holy shit,” you said, eyes devouring the perfect specimen before you. The tip was fat and shiny, begging for your lips to wrap around it. “This still okay?”

He blew a puff of air through his nose. “Of course.”

You wrapped your index finger and thumb around his thick cock, teasing up and down his shaft slowly. He tried to strangle his moan in his throat. You met his eyes as he reclined and you lightly pressed a kiss to his tip, then trailed more kisses down one side of his length. You never would have guessed he could made such sinful sounds from his candy-sweet personality, but each noise weakened you. Eye contact still unbroken, your lips finally enveloped his cockhead, then pulled off with an obscene slurp. One hand on his shaft and the other squeezing his thigh, you circled your tongue around Goku’s beautiful cock. Worshipping it with your mouth and hearing his vocal approval made you clench your leg muscles, stimulating yourself.

“Decided where you wanna cum yet?” you asked as you licked up the underside, making him shudder.

“Ahh… I’m really not picky,” he chuckled.

With that, you started sucked him off with purpose and vigor, eager to hear his whines of pleasure. Your saliva dripped down, making a mess of him as your hand twisted and pulled. You kept constant pressure and pleasure on him, making his moans pitch up. They came in short, desperate bursts and you finally dove deep, taking his entire length down your throat in one swift motion. As you lifted to dive down again, Goku gripped the arm of the couch with one hand and guided your head with the other. While his touch was light on you, you feared his intense strength might rip the upholstery of the poor couch.

“Ahh, almost there!” Goku cried, hips beginning to twitch.

End in sight, you watched his face as you sucked him. A few final strokes and one beastly growl had him shooting hot strings down your throat. His brows knit together tightly, mouth hanging open, head tossing. He writhed in pleasure as you slowed, swallowing every drop he offered you. And it was a lot. You swallowed at least three times, taking more cum each time. Even when your mouth left him, tiny beads formed at the slit of his cock. You smeared them with you thumb, then licked him clean.

“Hope you didn’t mind that I decided for you,” you panted, proud of your hard work.

Goku slumped on the couch wearing a dazed expression. “I can barely move. Damn,” he said with a soft chuckle. “But what can I do for you now?”

Just as a grin started to form, the sound of someone unlocking the front door jolted you both out of your haze. Your eyes grew wide.

“Vegeta’s back already?” Goku whispered, frantically stuffing himself back inside his shorts as you fixed your shirt. You stood quickly enough to make your head spin and grabbed your empty wine glasses to busy yourself. Just as you made it to the kitchen to wash the glasses (and your hand covered in spit and cum), Vegeta shoved his way through the front door. You gave him a soapy-handed wave.

“Hey Vegeta,” you said, hoping he wouldn’t take a long enough look at you to notice your flushed face, neck, and chest. Thankfully, he just gave you a grunt in reply.

“You’re back early,” Goku said, a lilt in his voice.

“Not really,” Vegeta grumbled, barely giving Goku a glance as he passed. His bedroom door shut with a stern thud.

“Sounds like he had a bad day,” you mused.

Goku stood from the couch and replaced his eyeglasses. “Well, yeah. He’s jealous that you picked me over him.”

Your heart screeched to a halt. “Wait. What are you talking about?”

He tilted his head and padded over to you at the sink. “Bulma said that you said you had a better connection with me.”

Your cheeks began to burn. “She told you I said that? But she said one of you asked about me! She told me to guess which one! I couldn’t decide which of you I liked better, so she… That Bulma!” You dried your hands and tossed the dish towel onto the counter, pouting that Bulma had tricked you into making a decision. “Wait, so neither one of you actually asked her about me?”

Goku smiled warmly. “Actually, we both did. As soon as Vegeta got back from his lab, we had an argument about which one of us was gonna get to ask you out. Bulma overheard us and told us she’d figure out who you liked better!”

“But I just flipped a coin! Literally, I couldn’t decide!” you laughed.

“You did? So you didn’t really pick me at all, did you?” Goku asked, looking like a kicked puppy.

You stood on your toes and reached your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a sensual kiss.

“Fate picked you for me. And for the record, I’m really, really glad it was you, Goku.” His hands held your waist as he returned your kiss. When you pulled back, his sugary smile had renewed completely and his eyes sparkled with affection.

“Me too.”

tags: @artof-aristocracy @ghostlylovesstuff

#dbz x reader #goku x you #son goku #goku x reader #goku smut #fuzzfeet #fuzzfeet figure #dragon ball #dragon ball z #all the right buttons

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simplyreveries · 4 months

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hii hru? i hope your doing good! you dont have to do this request if you dont want to idm. anyway maybe an au with Jade, Vil, and Rook where the reader is a thief and their a detective. and they have trouble catching them while the reader makes fun of them??

just ignore this if you dont want it. have a great day. :)

im good thank you! ty for the request, it's cool!!!

jade leech

jade actually seems to enjoy how much of an effort you have to make him do, that he has a chase. its entertaining to him to say at the very least. he seems to be quite confident in himself and his own abilities to catch you- in fact there are times where he could so easily get you but he kinda lets you slip away so he can continue hehe.

anytime you make some snark or playful comment towards him he always manages to have the same energy back only in a more playful (sometimes they're unnerving because its JADE) but he likes this. he grins as he muses how much he banters back- it's different from what he is used to, and he loves it. he usually chuckles to himself when he hears you poke fun at him.

genuinely has and does try to outsmart and trick you in some ways as his plans to successfully capture you. he views this all as some game to him, that he is absolutely loving.

vil schoenheit

he isnt the most impressed with your games and playful demeanor about the whole situation, he scoffs and thinks it's a childish waste of time. vil is someone that does not want to be caught in an endless cat and mouse chase... is what he thought until he kind of started to like the retorts and comments you two have against each other. he finds it interesting and different, like jade.

vil is almost upset because he does hold himself up to a standard, seemingly prideful that he is good at his job and what he does for his line of work. the fact that he has such trouble catching you frustrates him at times.

being stubborn as ever will only continue again and again to make every attempt to successfully get you. sometimes you'll find him having his proud moments where he is able to stun and just barely able to get you- only for you to quip and tease him as you're able to escape once again.

rook hunt

oh lord, he may even be enjoying and loving this more than jade. he finds the chase so exhilarating- he doesn't always want it to be so easy for him. he gets to exercise his talent in hunting down and chasing and he will gladly do that. seems to find the thrill and joy of doing it even more.

he might even compliment your skills while he is after you, giving you an amused smile amazed that you've actually made it as far as you had. trying to get away from him was no easy feat for others like you in the past. he is pleasantly surprised and is excited for anytime he finds you. "ah, so close! ill get you soon enough, trickster." he'll usually say chuckling in defeat.

there are so, so many times with him where it'll be such close calls with him getting you- still you manage to slip away from him. he'll admit you're clearly no amateur, you know what you're doing. and he loves it.

#twst #twst x reader #disney twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst imagines #twst headcanons #twst wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #jade x reader #jade leech x reader #rook x reader #rook hunt x reader #vil x reader #vil schoenheit x reader

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queenofallimagines · 11 months

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Lucifer if you were a Luciferian before coming to the devildom

as a devotee I think this would be fucking hilarious bc I’ve seen people do “hail Satan” shirts but hear me out-

** a treat before part 2

Lucifer:

- probably will not recognize you off the bat

- Like he’s like “oh ok it’s you” but it doesn’t connect that your HIS

- Like he’s under a lot of pressure right now and stress

- Is pleasantly surprised that you listen so well. Probably gets smug that you listen so obediently

- Sees his sigil on your necklace or something and then it hits him like a fucking BRICK

- Especially if he peeps you doing stuff for him out of habit

- Goes back to look at your file and is like “holy shit I’m literally your patron”

- Will bring it up to you and ask why you don’t make a big deal of it

- “I mean I was already used to living with you? This ain’t much different”

- Ngl in the beginning he would manipulate you about the stairs bc your a good little disciple you’ll do whatever your deity says right?

- But that wouldn’t work bc his first and most basic belief is fuck blind obedience and to question things when uncertain

- Honestly a “fuck I taught you so well but now your using it against me” situation

- Will ease up that you don’t have bad intentions but he’s going to protect his brothers first and foremost

- Will really keep using the line “do not forget that you belong to me” when he’s trying to intimidate you

- But your used to him dragging you to get your life together to its very ineffective

- Gets really frustrated that you already know his nitpicky strict habits because he likes punishing people and lecturing so the fact that he can’t do that to you to be petty really bothers him

- Gets kinda flustered about spending time with you because he’s so used to knowing everything about your life you getting to see him in his home feels too vulnerable for his liking

- Will ABSOLUTELY bring up embarrassing stories about you

- “Ah, remember when you were asking me to help you get a date? Because I definitely do”

- “Me and your ancestors definitely talk about your questionable taste in men”

- Please use this opportunity to be like “this you🤨” because he will have no answer

- “So what the fuck was you sending me all those 11:11 for😐 please elaborate”

- “…. I don’t know what your talking about”

- “What was the reason for you giving me that headache?”

- Will literally Triple his pride when y’all start being intimate

- You’ve given him a god complex but don’t call it that he will get an attitude

- “My most devoted worshiper letting me use them how I wish”

- Will use that as an excuse to fuck you everywhere

- Likes that you have jewelry with his sigil on it or anything you wear for him

- Feels like a collar, letting everyone know you’re his

- Pulls a mammon and calls you “My human” a lot

- Very overprotective

- Probably makes a pact with you In secret before the end of the program

- Like you guys basically already had one why not make it official??

- Especially if he reached out to you and not the other way around? Lmao yeah your definitely his

- If any of the other brothers find out they WILL moan and groan about you not working with them

- Mammon and asmo are the most vocal

- Might end up having to get stuff for them and your altar too love :/

- They will give you stuff to put up there along with a candle

- Congratulations you now are working with 7 demons and they are all very needy

- Belphie will use that as an excuse to take a nap with him all the time

- “Your doing this in devotion to me cmooooon”

- They all will use that card with you actually lmao good luck

- “Mc! Come watch this anime with me! Your doing it in worship of me so you have to😌”

- Mammon had run that excuse dry bc sir doing your homework does not count as a devotional activity 🙄😒

- Lucifer will brag that it was fate that you were brought to him

- Will also pretend that he chose you on purpose knowing damn well he didn’t 😂

- “But of course I had to choose you, I knew you were the best option.”

- You literally didn’t even look at the name on the paper 😭😭

#lucifer x reader #lucifer obey me #x black!reader #x black male reader #x black fem reader #obey me x reader #obey me swd #obey me nightbringer #obey me x black reader #lucifer #my writing #witchy reader #fr #lucifer smut #om lucifer

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my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction · 10 months

Note

How about a fanfic that goes like this-

It’s super late at night and you’ve already gotten into bed. The reader is sound asleep but Marc is just laying there wide awake having a huge episode of self doubt and insecurity and he can’t sleep because of it. Marc is aware that his thoughts are just running around but he can’t help it. He wonders if he really is living a good life or if he’s living in a lie he’s made up for himself to think that he is.

Do you actually love him or do you just put up with him because you actually love Steven and Jake and he’s just part of the “package”? Or what if he and the boys are just some sort of man-toy that you like but will leave once you find them not longer amusing. Even when reader cuddles up closer to him in their sleep, he just thinks “what if they’re just dreaming that I’m Steven or Jake”.

At some point Marc does end up falling asleep, more so out of his body just deciding to do it rather than through will. When it’s morning, Marc wakes up and finds reader starting to make breakfast. They greet him with a good morning kiss and all that and a while after comes out and made a breakfast that Marc specifically, just out of whim, and Marc just kind of sits there and thinks “Okay yeah, no, they love me :)”

You can change this up any way you like It was just something I thoughts that fit in your writing style

PAIN. (Thank you for the ask, oh boy did this one just run off and do whatever it wanted.) Also basing Marc’s thought process/self doubt on my (mentally ill) thought process. I changed the ending, I hope you don’t mind, again the story just seemed to go off and do its own thing.

Ink in Water

Marc Spector X GN!Reader Rating: T Masterlist | ao3 | want to be tagged?

Warnings: self doubt, self hatred, Marc thinking he's worthless (HE'S WRONG), illusions to Randall, nightmares, happy ending, rail road sentences, please let me know if I've missed a warning!

Word Count: 1305

_______________________________________

The steady rain hitting the windows would be soothing to most, calming. The right noise to lull someone off to sleep.

Marc hated it.

Especially when it was dark with the sound of your soft breathing next to him. Rain and dark and not being alone.

It had been one of the things that had annoyed him about London, the idea of it at least. But it was pleasantly surprising when he realised that it didn’t actually rain that much in the city, not really. Despite how often its inhabitants seemed to talk about it.

More often than not it was that spitty rain anyway, the kind of stuff that felt like you’d been sprayed in the face with mist. It made everything damp and by default made 2 degrees celsius feel colder than 30 in fahrenheit, but other than that it was okay. Bearable.

Not like tonight.

Tonight it pelted down, the wind howling faintly. Tonight it reminded him too much of… well, things best left buried.

He tried to focus on the sound of just your breathing instead. That gentle, even rhythm and was normally so soothing. Would usually drown everything else out.

Don’t think of drown.

Don’t think of anything.

Just breathing, your breathing. In and out. In and out. He tried to match it, held his breath until you breathed out. But no matter how he tried he kept slipping out of your rhythm.

Marc turned onto his side, opening his eyes to look at you, your face faintly illuminated by the glow of this fish tank. He’d forgotten to turn the light off.

Steven would tut and scoff at him in the morning. ‘How would you like to sleep with the top light on, hmm? It’s not good for them, buggers up their internal clocks and all that.’

He’d have to tell Steven that he didn’t think fish had internal clocks.

Part of him wanted to get up, to turn the light off. And not just to avoid Steven’s disappointment, but because really he did feel kind of bad for the poor fish.

Not tonight though, he couldn’t do it tonight. The thought of getting up, walking through the darkness of the flat despite the glow from the streetlights outside, with the sound of the rain. Dark, walking, rain. No, not tonight.

The fish tank light stopped the complete darkness, the sound of it hummed lightly. Even if Marc couldn’t focus on it enough for it to completely block out the rain the absence of it would be worse. It would make the drip, drip, drip of the water going through the tank’s filter louder. The kind of sound that would give birth to stalagmites.

No, not tonight. He would say he forgot, apologise to Steven and the fish in the morning.

He could put his headphones on, listen to something to try to drown out the rain-

Don’t think of drown.

But he didn’t remember where he put them, which left him with fumbling around in the dark to look or turning on a light. Both would wake you. And that wasn’t fair.

You put up with so much and here he was, not even able to deal with the sound of the rain.

Marc pushed gently at the head space, a nudge just to check if anyone else was awake. If Steven or Jake would like a go at trying to get the body to sleep. He could just… slink back and fade. It was always easier to nod off if he wasn’t fronting, just sort of sink-

Don’t think of sink. Don’t think of drown. Don’t think at all.

That, of course, never worked.

You shifted in bed, sighing quietly.

It hurt sometimes to think about how much he loved you. Early on he used to imagine you breaking up with him every night, not Jake or Steven, no you’d still be with them, just him. Ending it with him.

It was like he had to. Repeatedly going over and over the way you’d tell him you didn’t want to be together romantically anymore. In any and all situations he could think of.

The more he thought about it, he reasoned, the more he would get used to the idea. Grow calluses over the hurt, so when it happened he wouldn’t cause too much of a fuss. Wouldn’t make it awkward for you or Steven or Jake.

It never worked like that, of course. His thoughts very rarely did what he wanted, preferring to run among and spread all over the place like ink in water. Clouding everything to madness.

Everytime he imagined it, the words you’d say, whether you’d speak them calmly or in a rage, coldly or with kindness, it didn’t matter. Just thinking about it always made him cry. Made his throat ache and skin hot.

It got so bad once that Steven had jumped to the front, confused and worried at the tears on their face, at why their hands were pulling fistfuls of their hair. At why they were sitting curled up on the bathroom floor.

Marc had bullshited something, he couldn’t remember what. Steven hadn’t believed him, Marc knew that for sure, but he hadn’t pressed him further either. It wasn’t surprising, Steven was far too smart to swallow whatever nonsense had been thrown at him. The opposite of hook, line and sinker. Sinker. Water. Rain. Sinker. Sink. Drown.

Don’t think of sinker. Don’t think of sink. Don’t think of drown.

Of course you’d stay with Steven and Jake. How could you not?

He’d seen the way Jake made you laugh, so loud that it reverated in your chest, so hard that you almost couldn’t breathe, so constantly that you’d beg him to stop, just for a moment so that you could compose yourself. You’d never give that up.

He knew the way you talked with Steven, both of you speaking so fast that it made Marc’s head spin, so excitedly and animatedly, not even needing to finish a sentence before starting the next one because you were both so in sync. You’d never let that go.

What did he have to offer?

Except for being scared of the rain. Too afraid to turn off the fish tank light. Too pathetic to even deal with the idea of not being with you.

He really should just-

“Marc?” You turned, your voice filled with sleep as you reached out for him. You grabbed his shoulder and squeezed.

He swallowed, “yeah baby?” He sounded stuffy, almost like he’d been crying. Thankfully, you weren't quite awake enough to notice.

You sighed, relief flooding your veins and shuffled closer to him, quickly embracing him and hugging him tight.

“I had a bad dream.” You mutter against him, pressing your face into his chest.

“Baby,” he squeezes you back and places a soft kiss on your temple. “It’s okay, don’t worry. You’re alright.”

“Dreamt I couldn’t find you.”

“Couldn’t find me?”

You nod. “I kept shouting ‘Marc’, kept calling for you, but you weren’t there.”

Something sharp digs into his chest, spearing his heart clean through the middle. “Shouting for me?” He whispers.

You nod and stiff, shaking a little. There’s wetness on his bare chest.

“Hey, baby, hey,” he gently pulls you back and lifts up your face, cradling your cheeks in his warm, safe hands. “It’s okay.” He kisses lightly just under your eyes, presses his lips to your tears, “I’m right here, don’t worry. Not going anywhere.”

You nod, still sleepy and kiss his lips. “Love you.”

“I love you baby, here.” Marc readjusts his position so that you can lay your head fully on the pillow and he can wrap both arms around you, softly rubbing your back as you snuggle into his warmth.

You both fall asleep at the same time.

____________________________________

Thank you for reading!

Taglist: @pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @cocodiem @oscarisaacsspit @whatthefishh @mbakubabe @solobagginses @romanarose @pimosworld @jake-g-lockley

If you'd like to be taken off the tag list please let me know here

#marc spector #moon knight #moon knight mcu #marc spector x reader #x reader #marc spector x you #x you #marc spector x gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader #marc spector x gn!reader #x gn!reader #my writing #fanfic #oscar isaac #oscar isaac characters

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margaretoakgrove · 1 year

Text

Taking care of Heisenberg

If once you decide to open an old huge dictionary and find the word ''workaholic'' within this book, i bet the name of this handsome man certainly will be its definition.

It is just incredible that each day Heisenberg finds so many hours to build his metal army of mechanical undead soldiers and, unfortunately, such a small amount of time for taking care of himself.

The lord tends to put his own self-care and state of health aside, but you, on the very contrary, put them on the first place along with yours.

Actually, it will be fair enough to say, that you enjoy taking care of your loved one, and the undeniable fact that you are able to make his life easier and better turns you into one of the happiest people in the world.

Heisenberg is definitely a man of a good appetite, but in spite of that he prefers a simple food over rare exquisite dishes. Therefore if you just cook a fried meat with boiled potatoes and a simple vegetable salad, be doubtlessly sure that your pretty hands will be covered with little kisses of his endless gratitude.

Oftentimes, the old worn clothes of the lord become dirty and damaged as he usually works with motor oil and different metal scraps with rather sharp edges, but you are always ready to remove any oil stain from his trousers and sew up every hole in his shirt.

One needs to mention that your loved one's work is not only physically hard, but it's also hazardous, and, at times, sharp tools, metal scraps or even his own creation that, all of a sudden, went totally crazy can injure him. After such unpleasant situations you carefully patch his bleeding wounds up, and Karl, seeing a concerned look on your face, every time gives you a reassuring smile and tells that you shouldn't be so worried because of just another scratch. (Well yeah, just another scratch which, in the afterwards, turns into another deep scar.)

As Heisenberg strictly forbids you to wander the lowest levels of the factory completely all alone, warning that it's super dangerous, you cannot go down there and check on him when he burns the midnight oil, creating one more addition to his army.

But when the lord sits in his workshop on the highest and safest floor of the building, designing and improving scatches or writing down important notes, you always bring him a healthy snack and a mug of aromatic strong coffee even in the middle of the night which is not a problem for you at all.

When your loved one, after working hard during all day almost in nonstop regime, tirely flops down on your shared cozy bed, you don't ever mind to provide him with a wonderfully relaxing massage. The caring hands of yours slowly and gently rub his weary neck and shoulders, and Karl doesn't even try to hold slight moans of an absolute pleasure, letting you understand like this how unbelievably good you make him feel.

By the havoc which practically daily happens in his life Heisenberg, rather often, feels very stressed out, and you perfectely know that at these gloomy days of his Karl needs the comfort of your company more than usual. You caringly offer him to drink a nice cup of hot relaxing herbal infusion and take a slow walk on the fresh air somewhere in the woods, trying to speak on positive themes in the process of your little trip, at the same time listening to the calming ambient sounds of the nature.

In winter you are especially worried about the health state of your dearest man, noticing that despite a cold weather he is quite lightly dressed, and his neck is perpetually open to the strong gusts of freezing northern and western winds. Does one need to say how surprised the lord was when you timidly gifted him a simply-looking yet so soft and warm scarf knitted with your own golden hands? No, the man wasn't just pleasantly surprised, he was baffled, even shocked by this gesture because literally nobody in his entire life has ever done such a nice thing for him.

Having the new accessory wrapped around his neck (which fits him well, by the way), Karl attends special occasions by the name of family meetings where he with a smug-ass smile on his face lively brags to the siblings (especially to Lady D) about what a kind, caring and attentive person his precious darling really is, unlike someone's annoyingly buzzing bloodthirsty bugs.

Heisenberg is sure as hell that he will never be grateful enough to you for everything you do for him every single day, understanding very well that without your divine presence in his life he would never ever feel so truly loved and cared for.

But the lord does not even imagine that the short sincere ''thank you, Buttercup'' of his makes you melt like a sweet sugar cube in a hot fragrant tea.

And each new day you are willing to keep tirelessly surrounding him with your priceless love and tender care because this so close to your heart man means the world for you and, surely, even more.

#resident evil 8 #resident evil 8 village #resident evil village #re8 #re8 village #re village #Lord Heisenberg #Karl Heisenberg #Heisenberg #House Heisenberg #Lord Heisenberg headcanons #Karl Heisenberg headcanons #Heisenberg headcanons #Lord Heisenberg x reader #Karl Heisenberg x reader #Heisenberg x reader #Lord Heisenberg x you #Karl Heisenberg x you #Heisenberg x you

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pasta-in-the-pudding · 6 months

Note

SO I JUST THOUGHT OF THIS IM SORRY IF IRS REALLY RANDOM BUT IF ITS OK COULD I REQUEST TICCI TOBY,MASKY,HOODIE,EJ WITH A TEEN!READER like Darwin from the amazing world of gumball

Darwin is such a silly guy omg <33

Thank you so much for requesting!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Toby

Honestly he's just glad you aren't as scary as some of the other children in the manor

Most, if not all of the children that live in the manor are there because there was quite literally no other choice for them

They come from such bad homes with such bad caretakers, it's not shocking that most of them have learned to protect themselves by any means necessary

So while Toby understands, holy shit do they scare him <//3

So seeing a kid that is allowed to still just be a kid makes him happy

He finds you quite fun to be around

He loves hearing you get excited with the things you're passionate about

And he loves how silly you can be!

You are one of the easiest kids to talk to, so he uses you for intel on the other children for things such as gifts for the holidays

He's also thankful that you are so truthful and don't like breaking the rules

It really helps lower the stress levels in the house

Masky

You're a good kid

That's about the extent of his opinion on you

He likes that you're a goody two-shoes, because it makes his job as the "secondary dad" of the manor waaay easier

First dad being slender

"Alright, which one of you spilled water on the carpet" tim asks, eying the two children sitting in front of him

"Im sorry! It was me, i didn't mean it, i swear it was i mistake!" You blurt out fearfully, hoping to not get in trouble

"Woah, relax kid, it's just water. We can clean it up easily"

He's also glad that you're one less kid he'll have to worry about sneaking out, running away, or getting in general trouble

Other than that, you guys don't really have a relationship

You might talk from time to time, and he'll be there for fatherly support and comfort

But that's about it

Hoodie

He's not exactly the greatest with kids

He doesn't dislike them, but he isn't really a kid guy

He can handle teens though, and with you being such an easy kid to handle, you manage to make his good list

If he sees you around, he'll wave, he'll get you things that remind him of you, and he's generally just more tolerant of you

Like if any of the other kids asked him to make them breakfast, he'd probably be like "oooh i actually juuuust started cleaning up sorry"

But if you or sally asked him to he'd be like "omg of course, you little angels 🥰"

Like tim, you won't really have a relationship outside of him just being more tolerant of you

He's considered the cooler uncle, and sometimes a big brother amongst the kids so he won't be able to provide the fatherly comfort that Tim does

But he CAN provide some brotherly shoulder pats or cool uncle McDonald's

And maybe, just maaaaaybe a hug every now and then

Eyeless Jack

Ej finds children quite bothersome

They get in the way of his work, they are noisy and they are messy

Three things he will not tolerate

But he was very pleasantly surprised with you

He doesn't mind teenagers as much, as they are much less noisy and messy than younger children, but he does have his issues with teenagers as well

But while you are sitting on his medical bed, waiting for a bandaid for your cut arm, you are actually very pleasent to be around

You came in in a bit of a panic, fearing your arm might be permanently damaged, but you were able to calm down as Ej took the time to explain that you were ok, as well as walking you through everything he was doing

You were very nice and quiet, and quite polite actually

You are a good kid in Ej's books

When he sees you around the manor, he makes a point to show at least some sort of sign of polite recognition to you, instead of just walking past with a blank expression

Whether it be a small smile, a nod, or a wave, just something to let you know that he thinks you are ok

Espcially with how anxious you seem to get, he knows that it will likely help you to know he doesn't hate you

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tired-biscuit · 1 year

Text

18+ fem!reader // quirkless AU. cw: alcohol, infidelity.

thinking about your friend's sweetheart of a boyfriend kirishima, who stays up and helps you clean after everyone else has already either passed out on your couch, or left the party you've thrown to celebrate your new job promotion, and thus an upcoming - unavoidable - switch to another city.

it's almost four in the morning, you're tired from all the socializing and drinking, and yet you catch yourself feeling pleasantly surprised by the fact that your friend's new boyfriend offers to keep you company as you try and sort out your home into its previous state of tidiness that you're normally used to.

the task before you is certainly no easy job after hosting such a fun party, however luckily for you, kirishima - or kiri, as he tells you to call him - is still as talkative and chipper as ever as he helps you gather and take out all the garbage, screws shut and sorts the remaining bottles of alcohol back into the fridge, and makes sure that all of the chairs find their rightful place back at the dining table, exactly where they belong.

and before you know it, all that's left to do is to take care of the dishes. feeling bashful all of a sudden from accepting so much help from a man you barely know, you repeatedly try to reassure him that you can handle this pesky little chore all by yourself, so that he can go join his girlfriend upstairs in the guest room because she must be surely missing him by now.

however, eijirou, being the good sport that he is; insists on offering a helping hand by grabbing a nearby dishcloth and waving you over to the pile of dishes that are waiting for you both, now, it seems.

so, you agree - happily. selfishly. even make a little show of it by rolling your eyes before approaching. i mean, how couldn't you, when he's just so nice?! he stands next to you by the sink, all big and warm, glancing at you every so often from the corner of his eye, easily making conversation and asking you where he should sort the various plates and glasses which you've still got to pack in the upcoming weeks. he makes you ogle a little bit whenever he stretches his arms to open and close the cupboards you point your chin towards every time. makes you leer.

there's chemistry; an instant spark you fail to snuff out even though deep down you know you should - he's your friend's man, for fuck's sake, not yours. it's tough. you try not to flirt whilst you think about the faint nip of guilt that's appearing in your conscience every now and then, but you simply have to admit it to yourself; you're attracted.

he's handsome and nice on the eyes with his broad shoulders, burly physique and defined jaw. strong. enticing. just your type.

and that's not all. after sneaking several looks at him during the party, you've learned that he has this constant grin playing on his face that you could almost describe as cheesy from how big it gets, and a thunder of a laugh that had struck your very soul whenever it boomed throughout the space during the course of the night.

but those are all things you've noticed from afar. now that you can see him more up-close, you realize that his eyes are striking and clear. they burn like a forge no matter the hour, making it seem like his irises contain molten glass. the feverish intensity in them matches the colour of his hair. it's like he burns from within - a true embodiment of a wildfire breaking free stands right before you.

he doesn't burn you, of course, as much as you think he would own the power to actually do it. the touch of your fingers brushing against his bigger, more calloused ones - god, they're just so thick - whenever you hand him a utensil or a cup is shiver-inducing, yes, but you also know that it is purely coincidental.

though, the touch of his hand, landing onto the small of you back the moment the dishes are taken care of, isn't coincidental. it isn't coincidental at all.

just like the way he turns and looks at you then, so attentive and inquisitive all of a sudden, isn't. staring up at him with a hammering pulse and a tight throat, you realize you're standing much closer to each other than you thought at first. the proximity is already small, but as if he's trying to provoke your limits, he makes it even smaller when he takes your hand in his so that he can wipe away the droplets of water off your almost-trembling digits.

he's still looking at your pretty manicure as he places the dishcloth back onto the counter. the way his callouses scrape your palm is to die for. it makes your stomach clench, because it tells you he's a working man. a capable one, who could fix things for you with seemingly no trouble.

a man who could perhaps help you set up the furniture that will surely be causing you many headaches as you settle in your new apartment.

"you're moving in a few weeks, right?" he asks quietly, rubbing his thumb across your knuckles. you've noticed that he slurs on his words a bit, but the rasp that riddles his voice still makes you nearly preen from how inviting it is to listen.

"yeah, that's, uh... that's right," is all you reply with, because it's all you're capable of at the moment. the lump inside your throat is still annoyingly present, and the kitchen is semi-dark, and you're both tipsy and he's standing so close, towering over you in a way that you can smell his potent scent and almost taste it sitting on the flat of your tongue at the same time.

there's silence. and also tension. the sticky kind.

"aw... what a shame, really," he mumbles, the corner of his mouth kicking upwards before he turns it into a subtle pout instead. he sounds genuine even if the expression that he now allows to show on his face seems to be masking a different motive. he almost looks... lustful.

wait, didn't he remind you of a puppy, at best, just mere hours ago? who is this wolf, now?

"what is?" you ask, trying to mentally push away all the immoral ideas that are forming inside your mind at the sight of him. his teeth are so sharp... he truly is no puppy, hmm?

as if on cue, he smiles, no, smirks, as he looks down at you. he tightens his grip and strokes your knuckles with his thumb one, two, three more times, before he brings your hand up to his lips then, and whispers, "the fact that i'll probably never see you again."

the sentence he leaves hanging in the air is like a scapegoat. a reason worthy enough for him to ram his cock inside your treacherous little cunt that you've been hiding from him underneath your too short skirt all night long.

after all, it doesn't really matter if you fuck him just once, right? you saw how he's such a good boyfriend, so caring and loving - surely he can slip up just one time? and it's not like it'll lead into something more. you'll move, you'll forget about each other and after enough time passes, you'll start doubting if the entire thing even actually happened.

that's it. you'll forget all about how his hands feel so big and rough as he runs them along your thighs; how he obscures you from sight the moment he sits you down on top of the counter and makes you wrap your legs around his waist whilst he leans in to kiss your jaw.

you'll erase from your memory the way he pulls you closer, to the very edge of the marble, just so that he can fuck into you as fast as he's able because it's supposed to be a dirty secret. erase how big his cock feels as he bottoms out then, groans into the side of your neck and lets it throb inside your belly. how he looks so mesmerized, with his rosy lips parted and his face flushed, when you hike that wretched skirt of yours up and he falls in love with a dripping wet pussy that definitely isn't his girlfriend's but that he's sinking into just as happily all the same.

you'll forget all about it, both of you truly will. he definitely won't look you up on instagram afterwards. won't slide into your DMs. won't ask you out. won't spend the weekend at your new place, helping you assemble furniture and fucking you on top of it right after the job is done. won't leave his girlfriend, who is also your friend, just to chase after you. won't, won't, won't.

he promises you that, even though his tongue is deep inside your mouth already, and he's holding onto you like he's scared you'll break apart if he even as much as thinks about releasing you from his grip. he just likes you so much. too much.

because unbeknownst to you, all that takes for a fire incarnate to blaze...

is a spark.

#biscuit drabbles #kirishima eijiro smut #kirishima eijirou smut #kirishima x reader #kirishima smut #cw alcohol #cw infidelity

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boyfriendstevie · 8 months

Text

banana pancakes

a lazy morning in with robin; inspired by the middle picture that i came across on pinterest! my first time writing anything remotely smutty for robin, pls be kind lol. fem!reader obvs. 1.1k. nothing crazy, but mdni!! 18+ pls!!

Robin’s side of the bed is empty when you wake up. You roll over, eyes still closed as you reach out for your girlfriend. It’s only after your fingertips touch bare sheets that you open your eyes in surprise, a pout finding its way to your lips. Your favorite part of weekend mornings is cuddling in bed, and Robin’s not even here to do that. You’re sure she’s still in the house — in fact, you can hear noises coming from the kitchen — but you still wish she was next to you.

Sighing, you sit up and stretch, scanning the room for something to wear. All you’ve got on is a pair of underwear, but you spot one of Robin’s big sweatshirts on the dresser across the room, and decide it’ll be perfect for your lazy morning in. It smells just like her as you slip it on over your head, and all you want is to find her.

You follow the sounds of breakfast being made to the kitchen, a little afraid of what you might find. Robin is not exactly skilled at cooking, and it’s totally possible that the kitchen is a absolute disaster right now, though you do smell coffee, and maybe pancakes. You’re pleasantly surprised to find that the kitchen is still in working order, and even more pleased when you notice that Robin is completely topless. She’s only wearing a pair of sweatpants that look like they might be Steve’s, considering they’re rolled at the waist, and her bare back is on display to you, her smooth, pale skin taunting you. There’s a mug of what you assume is coffee in one of her hands, while the other holds the door to the fridge open as she looks for something.

You’ve got to move quickly if you want to hold her while she’s standing like this, so you do, padding across the kitchen with a murmured ‘good morning’ so you don’t completely surprise her, your warm hands finding her waist. She still jumps a little when your hands touch her, squeaking in surprise, though she quickly relaxes into your touch. Her skin is cool from the chill of the fridge, and you slide your hands around the curves of her hips, hands warm against the softness of her tummy. She hums, leaning back into your hug, pressing against your front, “G’morning, bub.”

“This is a nice surprise,” you mumble, your cheek smushed against her shoulder blade.

“Oh!” she perks up a little, closing the fridge so she can rest her hand over one of yours, “‘M glad! Wasn’t sure if you’d want banana pancakes, or when you’d wake up, but just thought I’d make some anyways, and—“

You can’t help but giggle, pressing a kiss to the crook of her neck. She’s oblivious to what you actually mean, and it just makes you adore her even more. Pressing your nose to the space just behind her ear, you giggle again and murmur, “Rob, baby, the pancakes are nice, but I was talking about this…” You trail off, untangling your hands from hers so you can slide them up her torso, coming to rest against her ribs delicately, just underneath her breasts.

Her breath stutters — you can feel it against your hands — and you have to stifle another laugh. Her chest heaves and she blinks slowly, "Oh. Yeah, I just… didn’t… didn’t wanna bother with a shirt, and—" She struggles to find words as you move your hands again to cup her breasts. The only time Robin runs out of things to say is when you’re touching her like this. You love her voice, love listening to her talk, but you almost love her breathy moans and whimpers more.

Robin has perfect tits, and there are few things you love more than playing with them. She’s soft under your touch, nipples already starting to peak from the cold air of the fridge, only growing harder as the pad of your thumbs rub across them gently. A whine escapes her lips, desperate for more.

You kiss her neck again, this time nipping at the spot that makes her weak in the knees, “Y’so pretty, birdie. Love your tits so much, this is the best thing to wake up to.” As if to prove your point, you pinch both of her nipples, rolling them between your fingers gently.

She keens at that, chest pushing into your hands, and her cup of coffee nearly falls from her grasp. Luckily, you’re paying enough attention to notice, and swipe the mug from her hands, placing it onto the counter next to you. She mourns the loss of your touch, but only for a second, and quickly takes the opportunity to turn around in your arms, a lovesick smile tugging at her lips as she leans in to kiss you.

It’s soft but eager, Robin’s teeth nipping at your bottom lip. She tastes like coffee and maybe a hint of the mint toothpaste she uses, but you can’t get enough of her. You want to resume where you were before, maybe continue where you left off, so you pull your mouth from hers, planting a line of wet kisses down her neck to her collarbone.

The groan she lets out is music to your ears as her head tips back in pleasure, thudding into the wooden cabinets behind her. The sound makes you giggle, but you’re undeterred, kissing across the swell of her breast until you’re just above her nipple. Your lips part against the soft skin, and she gasps when you leave a hickey there.

Robin’s hands find your hair as you move lower, tongue darting out to circle her nipple. She whines again, a high pitched sound that she can’t quite control as your other hand comes up play with her other breast, not wanting to neglect her, “Ah, fuck, baby, I—“

You let your teeth graze her sensitive nipple as you pull back from her chest, lips shining with spit as you give her a grin, “Fuck, you’re beautiful, Rob.” Her chest heaves, an unbelieving laugh escaping her lips. Her eyes flutter open, glancing at you before quickly cutting across the kitchen to where the pancake batter sits next to the stove. You know exactly what she’s thinking, and beat her to it as you say, “Ya know, I love that you made pancakes, but… I could go for something else right now.”

She laughs again, raspy and filled with joy, and hoists herself up onto the counter behind the two of you, parting her thighs so you can slot yourself in between them, “That’s fine with me, baby.”

#robin buckley #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley smut #robin buckley fluff #robin buckley x female reader #robin buckley x f!reader #robin buckley x reader smut #robin buckley imagine #kit writes

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saintfaulkners · 7 days

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Sorry to bother you, but dude. You're so fucking cool. Would you consider sharing your top three favorite books (and why, if you feel like it)? Your aesthetic and taste in media is so fucking *it*

Thank you :)

you're not bothering me at all! in fact you just made me smile like an idiot, so thank you 🫀

I think picking a top three is almost impossible for me, but I can do a top 5:

1. we have always lived in the castle by shirley jackson

this is my favourite book of all time. nothing else has ever made me feel like reading this book did. the prose is so beautiful in its raw simplicity, a childish fantasy stated so matter-of-factly you have no choice but to let go of any sense of reason that might prevent you form feeling the words as having sprung from your own mind the instant you are reading them, and the narrator's intimate inner monologue draws you in so magnetically into her enchantingly morbid world of twisted logic and sympathetic magic – it's the sweetest nightmare you never want to wake up from.

2. house of leaves by mark z. danielewski

what is there still to say about house of leaves? it's as good as everyone says it is. I fought for my relationship with this book – we did not get along at all for quite a while – and it was worth it. I think it might have actually made it even better in the end. i feel like this book knows me somehow, like we have a reciprocal relationship with each other in which we are both active parties. I don't think any other work of art has ever given me that. it's the proverbial abyss staring back into you, luring you into its depths and never letting you go again.

3. autobiography of red by anne carson

autobiography of red is a verse novel, so you could think of it as one big poem, and it's beautifully written. the blurring and blending of myth and reality and continuous shifting of fiction and recollection, impression and perception sweeps you up into a tale both ancient and timeless, tragic and hopeful, about a boy who is a monster, or maybe a giant, with three bodies or maybe six hands, a shepherd or a dragon, a son with a red red heart. also, it's gay.

4. piranesi by susanna clarke

piranesi is a bit as if the house from house of leaves cared for you and was also built by plato. it kind of sneaks up on you gently, dangerously but never with malicious intent. it wants to lead you to a place inside yourself that you've never been to or maybe have just forgotten, and uncover what lies in wait there. most of it is love.

5. frankenstein by mary shelley

and for the last one, a classic. I kind of put off reading this for a long time, because I wanted to like it so badly and was very scared I wouldn't, or at least not to a degree that would satisfy, as is unfortunately often the case for me with these kinds of "important" things. but I was so pleasantly surprised. it wasn't hard to get into or inaccessible at all, it didn't bore or alienate me, on the contrary. it touched me so deeply and unexpectedly I didn't stop thinking about it for quite a while. it truly deserves its status in my eyes.

also because I couldn't resist, a visual representation of nine of my favourite books:

I hope you will find something worth your while in at least one of them!

#we have always lived in the castle #shirley jackson #house of leaves #piranesi #frankenstein #autobiography of red

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assistant-of-drama · 2 months

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Assistant Noah's World Tour!

Hello, my name is Noah.

And around 2 years ago, I had made the biggest mistake of my life.

I got into a show called Total Drama and now I can't escape this overrated series or its crazy host.

How did this happen to me?

Well, I'm going to tell you...

When I first entered the show, I thought that I was gonna stay at a fancy resort or something like that, while trying to win the 100,00 dollars.

But instead that hotel turned out to be a crappy, ancient campsite. They only have one outhouse and there's a camera inside of it. The food is disgusting and served by a violent psychopath of a Chef. The host is basically insane and probably gonna get crazier. With the cherry on top, being that our first challenge was to jump off of a giant cliff.

Yeah, the money just wasn't worth it.

I decided to trick my team into voting me off.

So, when the dodgeball challenge arrived, I saw it as the perfect opportunity since I hated sports anyway. I simply refused to help and gave my team the occasional rude comment here and there, to irritate them even more. It was almost too easy.

I smiled and chuckled to myself as I left the dodgeball arena, forgetting about the cameras recording my satisfaction.

When I wasn't given a marshmallow, I had to resist the urge to smile, while acting angry and disappointed. I even subtly insulted their intelligence one final time as I left, getting pelted with marshmallows in the process. It was totally worth it.

I couldn't fight the smug smile anymore as I reached the boat, nor the sigh of relief as the boat left the stupid island.

If only I knew that being unable to control my joy would've sealed my fate.

I was pleasantly surprised to see that there was a resort after all; a resort of the losers.

How ironic, but I wasn't gonna complain.

However, a few days later, Chris and Chef learned that I got voted off on purpose. They were furious. They called me back to the island, explaining that as a punishment, I would have to come back to the island as Chris' assistant for the rest of the show. My jaw dropped in disbelief. Apparently, I missed the fine print in my contract; if anyone leaves on purpose, then they're forced to work for Chris.

As I reluctantly went on the boat back to the island, I couldn't help but feel a mixture of anger, disappointment, and a bit of fear. I didn't know what Chris had planned for me, but I knew it couldn't be anything good. When I arrived at the camp, I immediately put on a disguise, so the others wouldn't recognize me.

I was exhausted. Chris had been working me like a dog since my return to the island. He had me doing all sorts of tasks. I'd never been so tired in my life. Every time I thought I'd finally catch a break, he'd find something else for me to do. It was relentless.

But at least I get paid more than the other interns.

Then later to my surprise, Chris began to ask me for new ideas for the challenges. I was confused at first, but then he explained that he was impressed with how I managed to trick my team into wanting me off the island. He saw it as a sign of my true potential. I couldn't believe it. Chris, the insane host, was actually praising me?

I decided to take advantage of the situation and give him my best ideas. To my surprise, he actually liked most of them. Over time, my role in the show became bigger. We would brainstorm ideas for challenges together, and I would help him execute them. It was a weird kind of partnership, but it worked for us.

As the days went by, I learned to accept my new life on the island. Sure, it was still a competition, and there was always the chance that someone might figure out my true identity, but for now, I was content. I even started to enjoy the challenges again, if only because they were more interesting with my unique perspective. The gross eating challenge was one of my favorites.

When the finale arrived, Chris, Chef, and I were thrown into the water by the contestants as a form of revenge. We didn't see it coming; one minute we were announcing the winner, and the next, we were soaked to the bone.

Then my wig came off, revealing myself to the others. They were angry at first, but after I explained everything, they decided to forgive me… except for Heather. We all had a laugh about it and even became friends.

I thought it was over.

But then Chris made everyone chase a case with a million dollars inside of it, while I simply stayed at the resort.

Then Chris revealed that he tricked everyone into doing a second season of Total Drama, I didn't care at first because I thought that I was gonna leave.

The apathy turned into horror, when Chris reveals that I'm still his assistant, according to my signed contract.

Life, why do you hate me so?

In Season 2, everyone became extra nice to me, hoping that their kindness would somehow get them special treatment in the future episodes.

Even Justin began flirting with me, and I couldn't help but feel a twinge of annoyance. I mean, sure, he was gorgeous and all, but I'm immune to Justin's charms. He's just another generic pretty boy that everyone loves drooling over.

I was so relieved when he left.

While the others finally took the hint that I wasn't gonna give them anything and now leave me alone, thank god.

Now that Season 2 is over, Chris is currently preparing a third season which is gonna take place in a unstable plane traveling across the world and singing random musical numbers.

Chef was right, that is the worst idea ever.

At least I'm not expected to sing.

The making of Season 3 is how I met Alejandro. The perfect combo of beauty, brawn and brains. Basically Justin, but with upgrades. The man who could charm the pants off of most species. At least that's what Chris says. Because personally, I think that guy is as overrated as the show I'm forced to work on.

That doesn't stop the Prince Charming Wannabe from flirting with me. In fact, it only seems to encourage him. He's constantly circling around me, waiting for the perfect moment to pounce. It's amusing, in a pathetic sort of way. I mean, really, how can someone be so convinced that they can win someone over with a few well-placed compliments and a big, fake smile? It's almost insulting.

Then there's Sierra. She's… interesting, to say the least. There's something about her that suggests she's not quite right in the head. When she was an interviewer, she followed the cast around like a lost puppy, constantly scribbling in her notebook and asking questions that no one seems to understand. She's also obsessed with Cody.

Her obsession with Total Drama is borderline creepy. She knows every contestant and knows personal things about us too. Even Chris himself. It's unnerving, actually. She even seems to know some things about me that I'm pretty sure I haven't told anyone.

They are the two weirdest people that I've ever met… and I'm about to be trapped on a plane with them. Great. Just great.

I'm not sure whether to feel sorry for myself or laugh at the absurdity of the situation. I mean, here I am, stuck as Chris Mcclean's assistant, while everyone else gets to compete for a chance at a million dollars. And now, we're all going to be singing and dancing our way around the world. It's enough to make anyone's head spin.

Pray for me.

(Inspired by total-drama-brainrot's anonymous questions!)

#assistant noah's world tour #assistant noah #total drama #total drama island #total drama action #total drama world tour #td noah #alejandro burromuerto #alenoah #td sierra #td heather #td justin #chris mclean

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zgvlt · 1 year

Text

each of your fingers like rays of the sun leona kingscholar x reader

summary: in which you like to hold and to be held by leona's hand, a lot (not like he's not in the same boat)

tags: gender neutral reader, sfw, fluff/romance, established relationship, 4k+ words, not beta read

author’s note (see end notes for more): The fourth fic to my five senses series

you can also read this on AO3

The day was concluding and yet the date was merely reaching its beginning, Leona rising with the setting sun.

He had slept the afternoon away, not having anything urgent to do, not when his calculations dictated he still had some absences left before it would become a real problem. As for his location, he had taken to sleeping in his room as opposed to his other favored locations—only a strategic choice, chosen based on the demands you had made of him earlier.

His choice was correct, as expected, for now there was no need to leave his room to find you and no need for you to do the same, not when you strolled into his room, as you have many times before (but not as of late, to his disdain). It was as though his becoming yours meant not only his heart but his room would become yours as well.

He would be a hypocrite to complain about such a thing, but he cared too little for becoming a good person now.

“Don’t make so much noise,” he complained half-heartedly, not bothering to pretend that he had not just woken up. He was sure you could tell anyway, your stifled laughter as you watched him yawn, your own attempts at scritching the back of his neck and ears. With his good mood, he supposed he would allow it.

“Looks like you’ve already set it up,” you said, glancing at his desk, the table turned to face his bed, and with misfortune you took to sitting on the chair than with him on the bed. “Should I play white or black?”

“White is already facing you,” and for a few other reasons he would rather not tell you, things you really had no need to know, “so you should just play that.”

“Okay,” and although you haven't started the game yet, your fingers hover over the chessmen, stopping over a particular pawn that Leona thinks you intend to move first.

“I’m surprised you even want to play chess,” Leona said, finally sitting up properly to face his side of the board, “I didn’t think you knew how to play… Do you know how to play?”

It’s nothing against you; he would have accepted your offer to play with him even if you didn’t, but it surprises him (pleasantly) that you might. Sure, he’s seen you watch him go against his dorm members, but other than that he wasn’t really sure if it was because you were interested in the game or if it was because you were interested in him.

“I watched a bunch of videos!” you said, defending yourself, “I’m not going to be a grandmaster anytime soon, but I know what the chess pieces and pawns are and what they do and, you know, enough basics to play.”

Leona grins at the distinction. Look at you, doing your research—you might actually stand a chance against him.

“Then I don’t have to go easy on you,” he replied, before adding a little lie, “not that I had any intention of doing so in the first place.”

Your opening move is standard. You don’t do something stupid or overly advanced by moving the pawns at the edges of the row, even though he would have liked to see a strategy involving either or. You go for a popular but beginner-friendly opening: the Queen’s Pawn to d4. It’s aggressive in a sense, a way to dissuade him from moving the king’s or queen’s pawn for his opening… or perhaps you wanted him to take the risk.

He looked up to meet your eyes, and he didn’t have to look any further down to know that you were smiling.

Cute, but it’s really too bad that he has no intentions of falling for your bait.

“Knight to your f6,” he mumbled, more for you to hear than himself. Leona’s not particularly chatty when playing, most people don’t have the capacity to do so when they’re too busy thinking five moves ahead, but he doesn’t want you to be too tense. If you wanted to talk about, well, anything really, you should do it. This was a date after all, impromptu it may be, not a competition.

“I wanted you to move–”

“Yeah, and that’s exactly why I didn’t move there,” Leona said with a drawl, watching the tips of your fingers touch each and every pawn, clearly contemplating what to move next. Usually you had to move whichever piece or pawn you touched first and with anyone else he might have used the rule to his advantage, but he instead waits for you to decide patiently.

If the consequence was having a game run slower than normal, was it really a consequence at all if it meant you stuck around a little longer?

“Pawn to… c4?”

“You don’t have to say it out loud,” Leona informed you, “but that’s a good move.”

Because it was a good move—probably your original plan anyway, if he had made the move you wanted him to. Regardless, you were able to strengthen your control of the center.

You smile at the praise and Leona tries not to smile back, distracting himself by moving a pawn to g6, right beside the knight.

Your next few moves don’t matter too much in the grand scheme of things—all he needs is to fianchetto his bishop, something you can’t really stop no matter what you do—but he does think it’s amusing that you end up mirroring his moves, clearly unsure of how to move when he’s too focused on defending than attacking you at the moment.

With two squares cleared out, he moves the rook and the king.

“I don’t think you’d cheat in chess, so what even was that?” you asked.

“Huh. Looks like you haven’t made it to the video about castling yet,” Leona quipped, but before you could complain he stood up, making his way to stand behind you. He doesn’t think he makes for a very good teacher, more of an instructor than anything, but he’ll try… only because you’re expecting him to, clearly wanting to replicate whatever it was he did.

“I’m sure you know that the most important piece in the game is the king.” With his index, he pointed to White’s king, and with his remaining fingers, he temporarily set aside the bishop to its right. “I’m sure you saw how I purposefully cleared these two squares—it’s because you need this particular rook for this.”

Without talking about it, the both of you quickly look around, not bothering to hide your sighs of relief when a chess piece named man fails to appear before your eyes.

“Because the king is the most important piece, it has to be well protected, defended. That’s where the rook comes in—a rook is basically a castle, which is what the move is called, so the king is pretty much hiding behind a bunch of walls to defend itself.

“When you make sure the king is defended throughout the game, the less chances of it falling into any traps or getting cornered… or you’ll at least have other pieces in convenient positions to attack if needed.”

“Castle to protect the king,” you muttered to yourself, sliding the two pieces together, “like this?”

“No.” Placing a hand over yours—the hand holding onto your king—he nudges the rook out of the way, effectively swapping their positions. “Like this. They don’t just move to the right and left, they have to swap as well.”

Leona hadn’t thought much of his clasping your hand—he’s not shy with giving you the physical attention you want—but your words thereafter do affect him, a fluster that takes him a little longer than usual to push down.

“I get it now! Thanks to you, my king definitely won’t fall too fast now,” and then, for extra measure, you let out a laugh. It’s hyena-like and Leona wonders if he’s left you alone with Ruggie one too many times, if his assistant’s been telling you one too many things.

He lets go of your hand with a click of his tongue, returning your pieces to their old positions. Here he is, teaching you how to play better so you could increase your chances of winning against him, but here you are making a joke out of him.

Still, he huffs in amusement when you move the bishop, then the rook, and then the pads of your fingers meet the king once again.

Sometimes Leona thinks he indulges you a bit too much—well, it’s less think and more know, but since he can’t be any more self-aware than he already is, he mostly just lets you do as you please.

That was how it was before you started dating, after all—him hardly reciprocating your actions, teasing retorts at most as his heart banged against his chest and hurt his ears. You and all your neon signs pointing that yes, you were attracted to him, and him finally having enough of you embarrassing yourself (and him), leading to him deciding that if you were going to keep that up without saying anything, then you wouldn’t have any objections if he asked you out himself. He remembers more than just your happiness—he remembers the pride you could barely contain at having him do the asking, as if it was an achievement.

Still, you can’t just expect to get away with everything. You should’ve recognized the inevitability of him biting back; he would argue that you preferred when he did. It wasn’t just that you thought it was fun when he did do so, the lazy lion getting up to do something, but more so you liked the idea that he could actually take initiative to do something for himself as opposed to simply having it handed to him.

These days, it’s you making yourself into his personal alarm clock.

Leona’s quit skipping every class he could. He’s not against graduating, believe it or not, and it definitely helps that he genuinely wants to see the Afterglow Savannah improve and that taking up an internship is a prime opportunity to start getting work done. It also helps that he has someone (sometwo if you count Ruggie, but he’s not very effective so he chooses not to) constantly pushing him to attend his classes.

Still, he’d prefer to not go to each and every one. Some classes, in his opinion, are just downright repetitive, if not pointless, things he already knows being taught to him again. Skipping those seemed valid to him, but it seemed it was not to you.

“Come on, kitty,” you kept his hand in a tight grip, dragging him along the hallway. It was empty considering everybody was already in class, and while it would have embarrassed most people, Leona was just glad nobody would be present to eavesdrop. “You’re late to class.”

“We’re late to class,” Leona countered, “did you forget that you have class, too? On an entirely different building?”

“Okay, whose fault is that?” you huffed, “You’re the one who kept me asleep!”

“But you were sleeping so soundly, weren’t you? What kind of guy would I be if I were to wake my partner up?”

“You would be a gentleman who saved my attendance record, that’s what. Professor Crewel is gonna kill me one of these days,” you muttered to yourself, “or Professor Trein, or maybe even the headmaster himself.”

“You’re exaggerating,” he said with a shred of a laugh, “it’s not like they don’t know I’m to blame.”

You stopped in your tracks to look at him.

“No way is our relationship so widespread that the faculty knows about it.”

“Even my family knows, so obviously the faculty does, too. Just because they’re adults doesn’t mean they’re above gossiping,” Leona said, grumbling as though sorely disappointed with the older generation, “not even Trein. He’s a history professor, which means he’s just better at separating fact from fiction.”

“And the facts are?”

Leona snorted, lifting your enclosed hands and waving them around. “The facts are clear as day. I wouldn’t just be allowing you to hold my hand willy-nilly like this if there wasn’t anything between us, much less allow myself to be dragged to class like this when I could be taking a perfectly good nap.”

“Go take a nap in class, then,” you retorted, “the important thing is that you attend, not that you pay attention.”

“Huh, wonder who taught you to be such a bad influence?” he asked, trailing off the end of his rhetorical question with yawn. “Well, if you’re gonna be a bad influence, what’s stopping you from going all the way with it?”

“What are you planning?”

“I was just thinking that I felt bad for always making you late to your classes,” he drawled. His classroom was a few steps away, but with you having relinquished most of the pressure on his hand, he decided it was his turn to take control of which path to take; that path was away from the main building and heading towards one of his favorite areas on campus—the botanical gardens. “Not only should I bring you there, but I should apologize to Professor Crewel for taking up so much of a precious student’s time.”

“Do you have a death wish? My classmates will never let me hear the end of it!” you whined, “If you want to sleep in the greenhouse, you should have just said so. Don’t drag me into it.”

You could protest a little more if you wanted, make him stop his tracks and leave you to walk back on your own, but you simply complained about how unfair he was being. Leona thinks it has to do with his hands—well, hand—still intertwined with yours, the fact that he’s the one doing the holding this time around. Perhaps you’re letting it happen so you can spend a little more time with him. He’s the same, after all, the reason he’s awake and doing this much.

“Then let’s take a nap in the greenhouse next time. That way, you’ll be able to wake up for your class in time. You’ll even have the professor serve as your alarm clock,” he chuckled, even as you threatened to leave him behind. He knows you won’t, because your grip is just as tight despite it, only loosening—with hesitance, a fact that makes his heart swell just the smallest bit—when no more detours can be done.

“I’ll see you later.”

Leona shook his head.

“No, I’ll pick you up.”

Leona’s never seen himself as a particularly domestic partner, but you smile at him and he thinks he might have to do this walking you to class thing more often. He can lose a few minutes of sleep for that.

III

“I learned something recently,” you began, “about palm reading, and finger lengths, and all of that. From Cater.”

“Yeah?” Leona asked, indulging you. “Show me.”

He knew where this was going, having recognized a pattern in your behavior as of late. He was not opposed to it—he’s an enabler of most of your antics, admittedly—but he does want to see what kind of tactic you’d initiate this time.

“Apparently our hands hold meanings too.” He’s still resting his head on your lap without any intention of leaving, but he adjusted his arms so you could take hold of his hands more easily. “I don’t know if I believe it entirely, but considering we use them so often throughout our life, I guess it makes sense… Also, it just seemed fun to learn about.”

One of your fingers went to trace the sides of his, moving along the tips and gaps in between. “For example, if your index finger is longer than your ring finger, you’re probably a confident, natural leader. Someone calculative and analytical. A risk taker, someone who prefers others to take the initiative but happily takes the spoils, and–”

“Are you sure you talked to Cater and you’re not just making this up?” he accused half-heartedly, “Maybe you’re cherry-picking things you’ll think suit me.”

“–and someone who likes their solitude, dislikes it when their time alone is disturbed.”

“Never mind. It doesn’t fit me after all,” claimed Leona, “I allow you to interrupt my alone time all the time.”

“Hello? Like you don’t enjoy my presence. I’m joining it, not interrupting it,” you argued back, “in any case, let’s say the ring is the longer one of the two.”

Your finger stilled against the aforementioned finger, before tracing an imaginary ring around the digit.

“It’s said that people with longer ring fingers are seen as more… ugh,” you sighed, as though reluctant to admit something, “ , they’re more attractive.”

“Oh?” He grinned, looking away from your hands to stare right at your face. You wouldn’t look at him properly, so he tugged at your fingers to catch your attention. “So I’m attractive? More attractive than most people you’ve seen?”

“Charming too, clearly,” you sighed as you rolled your eyes, though Leona noticed that it was not exactly a no, “which is another trait of people with longer ring fingers… I guess both descriptions work out for you, so it doesn’t actually matter which one has a few extra centimeters.”

“What about the palm lines then?” he asked, “Fortune telling isn’t really my style, the idea of placing all my bets on some kind of fate ain’t really all that appealing to me, but I’ll hear you out.”

“Oh, um…” You grasp a hand, and then two, and just… stare at them, following the lines with your fingertips. “I already forgot.”

“Heh, you forgot? Really, if you wanted to hold my hand that bad you could just ask, it’s not like I’d ever say no to you,” Leona teased, baring his teeth as he grinned. “Have I ever said no to you?”

“No?” you answered, “I mean, that’s not why…! Okay, I really did want to try reading your palms, but Cater and I only talked for maybe twenty minutes max? I only remember, like, the heart line.”

“Then read that. What’s the issue?”

You went silent, suddenly shutting your mouth. If it was anyone else, Leona would have thought they were embarrassed—it was something to do with romance after all and, well, that was a topic that flustered many. However, because it was you, it was difficult to say it was because you would feel embarrassment—you do lots of embarrassing things around him, after all. The truth behind your hesitation was…

“Well,” you began, fingers pointing to the long line stretched across his hand, “this is your love line. Based on the length, it would mean… Leona?”

You trailed off as Leona shut his palm, trapping your finger within the warmth of his hand.

“I don’t need to hear it after all. I already know the answer, anyway.”

Leona thinks (knows) he spoils you, but he thinks you spoil him just as much, to the point that he finds himself wondering if his existence is enough to warrant such treatment. After all, days like today he knows he hasn’t done anything particularly nice or special, and yet it feels as though he has with the way you hold onto him (or the way he allows himself to be held instead of holding).

“Give me your hand.” These days you don’t ask (though you still play tricks to retrieve your treat). What you do more often is demand, demand in the way royals like him do, because you know you can do so with him by your side, with him.

“Going to read my palms again?” he joked, already handing his hands over as an offering.

“Maybe some other time,” you said, “I was just thinking… your hands are kind of rough, aren’t they?”

“If I were a typical prince, I would’ve been offended,” he commented. Sure, he kept himself groomed—he’s still a part of a royal family, lowly a member as he is, so personality aside he’d rather not have people point out anything off with his looks too—but things such as keeping his hands moisturized just weren’t in his list of priorities.

“I don’t mind it like this.” He hadn’t asked, but he did wonder. Perhaps you knew that. “I wouldn’t have minded one way or the other, but I do like the roughness. It… suits you, I guess?”

Leona laughed, “Because I’m not a gentle person, huh?”

“Because it shows me that you’re someone who’s always worked hard,” you explained, “no matter what anyone says, I think this much is proof that the person you are now isn’t just because you were lucky to be born like that. Lazy and effort-averse as you may be at times, things like this prove that you, too, worked hard to achieve the strength and intelligence you have.”

He really doesn’t think he’s done anything to deserve the way you treat him, and it’s on days like today that he remembers what he loves most about you. It’s not just that you’re fun, that you’re amusing, that you’re cute—it’s because you are one of the few who can see past his pride and his arrogance, his imperious attitude; it’s because you care for him so easily in the ways he finds himself too prideful to imitate, fumbling the words spoken by his heart.

“Shut up,” he mumbled, terribly enamored of the way you bring your lips up to the knuckles of his fist. Those hands are not clean, have been used in fights for better or for worse, hands capable of destruction with some few choice chants, yet you kiss them as though they were innocent. “Seriously.”

“Of course, my prince.” You laughed even as his fingers stretched to cover your mouth, and like the sun peeking from the clouds your grin remained present and bright.

“Just two moves…” you muttered to yourself, “I can’t believe I fell for that! Or, you know, did that, since it was my fault. I literally read about this pattern on some chess website.”

“That’s what you get for experimenting without care,” Leona said, shaking his head as he returned the pawns and queen back to their positions. “Never thought I’d see someone use f3 as a first move, easily the worst opening you could do, followed by g4 which is the worst follow-up you could do. Guess there’s really a first time for everything—I finally got to play a Fool’s Mate against someone for once.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m glad you had your fun,” you grumbled. Malice wasn’t present, but he could tell you did want to win at least one match this time around. Maybe he would help out with that, though not without seeing what you could do, first.

“Then try some other opening or pattern,” he told you, “looks like you actually know more this time around.”

“Of course I did. I didn’t want to look foo–okay, never mind.” You grabbed hold of a pawn, twirling it around between your fingers. “Let’s go again.”

“Think you’re going to win this time?” he asked. It had come off as a tease, a way to rile you up, but the reality was that he was genuinely curious if you had a strategy you wanted to try and pull off.

“Maybe. Just indulge me this time, okay?”

Then you move the pawn in front of the king two squares forward. King’s Pawn Opening. Not bad, especially since you could control the center if you choose your moves right. It’s the next move, however, the one you pull right after he mirrored yours, that caused your plan to immediately click in his brain.

“Bishop to c4. You think you’re funny, do you?”

“Are you going to go along with it?

“I’ll show you.” Which, for Leona, was another way of saying of course. You were you, and with a message so charming, who was he to deny you, the both of you, of fun? “Knight to c6. Truly a first time for everything—never would I have thought I’d lose a game on purpose.”

“Queen to h5.”

“Knight to f6.”

“Queen to f7.” You grinned gleefully. He supposed losing was worth it after all. “Scholar’s mate.”

end notes | masterlist of all my works | series masterlist my other leona fics [ 1 ] [ 2 ]

[1] Title. The title can be in both Leona and the reader's perspective. If you liken Leona to the sun, then wouldn’t his fingers be the rays of warmth? And for Leona, since he comes from Afterglow Savannah, I think it means a lot for him to compare the reader to the sun, and though he’s already used to the warmth, he finds himself craving the one coming from the reader.

[2] Pieces vs Pawns. Many people do use “pieces” (or some other term in their respective language) as a catch-all term, but really pawns and pieces are different, with chessmen being the appropriate term for both pawns and pieces (in English, from my sourcs). Since reader makes the distinction, it shows Leona that they made the effort to research his favorite game. He would have appreciated the gesture of playing with him nonetheless, but that was a plus to him.

[3] Opening moves. Reader wanted to do the Queen’s Gambit, since it’s a popular and well-known opening. It’s also a move with a monarch in the title. Chosen not necessarily to represent the reader (see a different note for that), but you could see it that way if you want. They could not push through because Leona saw through them. Anyway, Queen’s gambit is White to d4, and afterwards c4, and while they did that they couldn’t complete a gambit because Leona went to move the knight instead of trying to control the center immediately.

[4] Leona’s opening move is called King’s Indian Defense, a response against the Queen’s gambit… and my personal favorite opening when I had the misfortune of playing Black (a.k.a. going second) in matches. Also chosen for the monarch in the move name. When White goes d4, the knight (horse) goes f6. At White’s c4, pawn moves to g6.

[5] Yes most of these notes will be about chess I’m sorry! Okay so a few other choices I made in writing the chess scenes. Reader, both times, plays white (goes first), for a multitude of reasons—Leona putting them first, them being the light of his life, Leona wanting to give them the advantage, all of that. Leona goes second because, yeah… the second-born, second-place thing, but also he willingly chooses it for the challenge, because it makes it more fun for him, and because he enjoys just watching you go first and reacting to the things you do. It’s less of Leona going easy on you and more of him trying to see what you know and how well you can predict moves so he can teach you appropriately later on.

[6] Castling. As Leona explained, Castling is a move in chess specifically to protect the king. Also slight humpty dumpty reference. It was believed that he was based on a king (and he’s commonly depicted as an egg-king in media), and when he sat on the wall he had a great fall… so basically whatever “castling” Leona did against reader was a failure because he fell for the reader, lol.

[7] I actually don’t know what finger is longer for Leona.

[8] Ending moves. Scholar’s mate was chosen… For obvious reasons. He lets the reader win because he thinks it's cute that they chose that move from their “research” HAHAHA.

#twst x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #leona kingscholar #twst #twisted wonderland #nathya twst writing #twst leona x reader #twst imgines

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